This Side of Normal
by An-Amber-Musicbox
Summary: I let her words sink in as Bex let out a sigh. Then a humorless chuckle. "Normal is undefinable." She let out a breath. "Normal doesn't exist ."
1. Chapter 1

**This is basically Gallagher Girls characters in the Hunger Games world. There's a lot of Gallagher themes too though. Later on anyway. First Fanfic.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Gallagher Girls. Or Hunger Games. Or any other themes from different fandoms that might be thrown in here later on.**

* * *

I wake up at dawn to the sound of the door closing, loud and eerie. I look out my window, run down by time and weather, to see my mother leaving, probably for a walk. A nervous habit. _Or when she's about to blow up. Could be. Tons of people hate the Capitol._

Mom wanted me to sleep in today, but like any 16 year-old on Reaping day, I couldn't. Most people don't have happy dreams on the night before the reaping.

She probably didn't either. Her side of the room was perfectly neat and tidy, the gray bed sheets tucked perfectly into the bed's corners, not one speck of dust on the dresser. Also a nervous habit. _Or when the house is a mess._

And I hunt when I'm nervous. _Or hungry. Or basically everyday._

So I put on my hunting clothes, slide into my boots, and tie up my blonde hair, grabbing my bag as I run out of the house, hearing the door creak again as I exit.

After I run through the Meadow, crawl under the fence, and run into the woods, I take my bow and a sheath of arrows from a hollowed log, where I always hide it. They used to be my dad's, once upon a time. He was the one who taught me how to shoot, to make snares and how to forage. But one day, he disappeared.

No one knows what happened. He'd gone to work in the coal mines, as usual, but he never came back. The peacekeepers didn't bother looking into it. To them, he was just a lowly coal miner from the Seam. They probably figured that he got sick of me and my mom, and ran off to elope with his forbidden true love, movie-style. If that was even legal anyway.

Of course, I knew "ran off to elope" wasn't anything _close_ to the truth. After all, I was my father's daughter.

_Cammie the Chameleon. _

Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a thing for exploring the unknown.

Dad's lectures, quiet footsteps, and a bow and an arrow.

And I liked the woods, just like he did. The woods were full of plants and animals to kill and eat. Poaching was illegal, but even though (or probably because) we were the poorest district, the peacekeepers were quite lenient here. Or they just didn't care. In any case, some of them buy my game.

I also liked not being confined by the fence surrounding the district. Outside the barbed wires. In the woods. It felt free. I could run away, survive on my own. But I knew it was easier to be the runner than be the one left behind. I could never do that, leave my mother behind.

Dad already did that.

"District 12. Where you can starve to death in safety," I say to myself.

The woods were the only place I could say something like this. It was easier to think too. Fresh air, a clear mind, and I was always alone.

_Well, almost always,_ I thought, as I saw a figure walking in the distance.

His name was Zach.

He hunted too. We were the same age, and I think he lived in the Seam too, but that was all I knew about him. He had brown hair and dark eyes, and I often saw him in the woods, at the Hob, at school, and even at the town's apothecary, but that was it. We've said "hi" once or twice, but we've never actually met or had any half-meaningful encounters.

_Except that one time._

* * *

"Are you nervous Cam?" My best friend Bex asked, as she scooped the coal dust out of her soup. There was so much coal dust at the Hob.

We always met at this black market in the evenings, or at noon if it wasn't a school day. Her parents run a business here, and I always come here to trade. I collected berries, plants, and hunted animals, and I traded a lot of it at the Hob instead of the public market. Fish for salt. Blackberries for fabric. I got better deals here, since they were fond of Dad (and because Bex had good connections).

"About what?" I ask after slurping up the rest of my soup.

"You know, the Reapings? The reason why Chef Louis' been generous with the prices today?" (Generous or not though, soup was one of the only things on his menu we could afford. I heard he used to work at the Capitol...)

I sighed. "Don't remind me. Of course I'm nervous." I only have 5 entries though, compared to Bex's 20. Since we were both 16, only 5 entries were mandatory, but because Bex signed up for more entries in exchange for tesserae, a meager year's worth of grain and oil, Bex had 15 more. My mother insisted that I should never do so though. We were better off with both of us alive.

"Come on," Bex said. She stands up to give our spoons and bowls back to Chef Louis. "We're done here." Then she smirked. "Let's go visit your little _boyfriend_."

"Josh is not my boyfriend! Besides, we just trade with his _family_, when we need _medicine_!" I snapped, trying not to blush (and, unfortunately, completely failing to do so). "And besides! He's from town! His family runs the apothecary! His parents are never going to approve Josh dating a Seam girl! I know he's sweet, and kind, and that _hair_…" I felt my face go red again. "It's never going to work out!"

"Oh, come on! You've liked him since 6th grade, when he took the blame for you when you broke a glass bottle. You've talked to him _plenty_ of times before. You totally like him, and he probably likes you! You say it's never going to work out because he's a perfectly _normal _ boy who doesn't break laws everyday, doesn't have to provide for his family, doesn't have to worry about anything but school and the family business, but that _normal_? Someone like you could get an even better guy!"

I was about to reply, say something I barely meant, but then something seemed to snap inside of Bex. I think the bowls might've broke as Bex slammed them on the table beside Chef Louis. "This is Panem! This is District 12! In about 2 hours, 24 kids are going to be chosen to be treated like kings and queens for a week, then thrown in some arena to kill each other! Not to mention next year! And the year after that! And that's _normal _here!"

By now, half of the Hob was staring at her. At us. Because Bex said something everyone was thinking, but no one dared to say. Even in the woods.

I half-expected some of the peacekeepers that always hung out here to come running and arrest my best friend, but it was Reaping day. They were all off preparing for it.

I let her words sink in as Bex let out a sigh. Then a humorless chuckle. "_Normal is undefinable_." She let out a breath. "_Normal doesn't exist_ ." Then she threw her hands up in surrender, and I almost sighed in relief.

How could I respond to that?

* * *

**I felt compelled to add Chef Louis in the story. Don't worry, he still makes awesome creme brulee. Why else would he work at a black market?**

**Hope you liked Chapter 1!**


	2. Chapter 2

The sun was unusually bright today.

Between my nerves and the tight crowd, I hadn't noticed it until now. Peacekeepers lined the town square, dressed in uniform white, with batons and guns and all. Up on the stage in front of the Justice Building, the mayor gives a long speech at the podium, but the words are repetitive at best. Repulsive at worst. I find my eyes focusing on the two large glass bowls beside him. It's filled with slips of paper. Five of them have my name written on it. Among thousands of others.

_But the odds…_

I find myself focusing on the speech again. It's the same every year though. The disasters, Panem, and the Capitol that brought "peace and prosperity to its citizens." Then came the Dark Days, and the rebellion, and District 13 was destroyed, and the Treaty of Treason, and the Hunger Games.

Then he reads a list of all the previous District 12 victors. It's a really short list though, as we've only ever had two victors. One has already died. The other is Joseph Solomon, who was a favourite during his Games. I've ran into him a few times too, over the years. He seemed like a nice guy.

The mayor then introduces Jessica, our district's escort. She had golden hair and high heels that hurt _looking at them_. She tried to sound bright and bubbly and actually happy to be here, but she was _terrible_ at it. I could clearly hear the bitterness in her voice and see how fake her smile was, and just like all of District 12's previous escorts, I knew she was itching to be promoted to a better district.

"And now, the time has come, to choose the two tributes to represent District 12 in the 92nd annual Hunger Games! Ladies first!"

Somehow, she manages to walk to the bowl on her left, and dips her hand into it, twirling her hand around and making it all _dramatic_, before _finally_ (the tension was killing _everyone_) plucking out a slip.

Time is a funny thing. There are theories about time travel and paradoxes that make it impossible. The colour red slows our perception of time. There are moments when everything goes by so quickly, and other moments when a few seconds seems to last hours. But at that moment, time seemed to stop as Jessica read the little piece of paper, and I heard the name "Cameron Ann Morgan."

_...Are not in my favor._

I felt my arms go limp, felt my eyes widen. I felt my body go numb, and my brain processing everything too quickly. Or slowly. My internal clock was starting to malfunction.

_Deep breath in… Deep breath out…_

My stiff legs started moving, small footsteps still quiet, toward the stage.

_Deep breath in… Deep breath out…_

I let my eyes wander as I walked. I saw a dandelion peaking out of a crack in the tile. A cloud passed overhead, making a shadow slice through the crowd.

_Deep breath in… Deep breath out…_

As I walked past Bex, I could see her hands clenched into fists at her side. Her face held a million different emotions. Her right foot twitched a little, and I think she might be considering volunteering. For me. I tapped her shoulder and shook my head no.

_Deep breath in… Deep breath out…_

"Now for the boys!"

As Jessica did the same dramatic thing for the boys, I scan the crowd, wondering who my district partner would be. I saw my mother at the very edge of the square, her head in her hands, the woman beside her whispering comforting things into Mom's ears.

"Zachary Goode!"

My mind races back to that time after my dad disappeared. It was a few weeks after my 12th birthday. My mom came home late for days. I started hunting alone. Kids at school kept telling me "I'm sorry." I would think, _for what?_ Everyone who wasn't trying to comfort me was spreading rumors. Nasty rumors. But Zach was different.

_"Someone knows."_

Zach's steady footsteps are as quiet as mine, his face almost emotionless as he steps onto the stage.

I notice how stiff Joe Solomon is, and I see a hint of anger and distress on his face.

Jessica asks for volunteers, and there are none. As usual.

The mayor starts to read the Treaty of Treason, and I start to think about what my life will be like in the next week or so. If I'll even have one once the Games begin.

I remember a time in grade 1 when the teacher asked everyone what they wanted to be when they grew up. "I don't know," I had replied. But now I do. I want to be alive.

When the mayor finally finishes, he motions for Zach and me to shake hands.

The rest of my thoughts are drowned out by the anthem.


	3. Chapter 3

**So... haven't updated in a while. Not that a lot of people would've cared, considering this is my first fanfic. But big thank you to those who do, and everyone who's reading this right now. **

**Thanks to everyone who faved/followed/reviewed, and remember, if you like this story, and haven't already, please fav/follow/review. Everyone who's written a fanfic knows that's a BIG motivation to update.**

******Anyways, hope you like chapter 3!**

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I break down the moment the door closes.

The peacekeepers herded Zach and me into separate rooms in the Justice Building right after the anthem ended. To say goodbye to friends and family before going off into the death games and, well… dying. It was a plush room, with thick carpets and a super soft velvet sofa that I immediately plop down on.

_'Cause our government's so screwed up that they put "fancy goodbye room" higher on the priorities list than "taking care of our citizens so they stop dying off on a daily basis for reasons that could easily be prevented if it wasn't for aforementioned screwed up government."_

So I just get angry instead, and it becomes dead easy to stop the tears from coming. I also get an urge to tear the room apart.

Until mom comes in. We hug, we cry, and we talk. Like about all our memories together. And all the usual things a mother would say after her daughter wins the death lotto.

"Try to win," she says, her voice cracking.

"I will. Not giving up without a fight, right? Like…" _Like dad would_. "And if I win, you won't need to go back to the coal mines. We'll be rich." I force a smile.

My mother just nods, wiping her red-rimmed eyes with the back of her hand. "Just stay alive."

"I'll try," I replied.

"Oh, and kiddo?"

"Yeah?"

"You're allowed to bring one thing from your district into the arena. One thing to remind you of home." Mom pulls out something wrapped in an old cloth and puts in in my hand. "I want you to take this."

The delicate silver chain was such a contrast to the old cloth, and at the end of it hung a matching silver charm. The charm looked like a shield divided into two, like a seal of some sort. A large tree covered the center, its branches touching both sides.

"A necklace," I mumbled. _And a pretty one at that._

"I found it when I was cleaning up this morning. I forgot about it years ago." She looked away as she said, "It used to be Matthew's."

Suddenly, the pretty little necklace gains so much value. "It used to be dad's."

_Why would he have something like this though?_

But before I could ask, the double doors to this "fancy goodbye room" open, and a peacekeeper signals that our time is up.

So we say "I love you" to each other one last time before mom heads to the door.

As my mom steps out the door, she turns back to me and says, "Trust Joe Solomon. He-" But the door slams shut and I'll never know what she had to say.

Bex comes in next.

She doesn't cry though, and we hug and start talking like it was just lunch at school again, when we would sit on the grass instead of the tables, and talk about whatever with our mouths full.

But then the doors open again and the peacekeeper ends our conversation.

"Knock 'em dead," my best friend says as she leaves.

A bunch of other people come in after Bex, some alone and some in a group. Teary-eyed classmates and people I've traded with at the Hob. And as I say goodbye to all of them, I wonder about all the other goodbyes that happened in this same room before. Nostalgia from past memories. Broken promises about coming home.

"Last visitor," the peacekeeper calls out.

Any other day I swear I would've been hyperventilating. But today… well, I was probably gawking. At least they didn't have cameras in here.

Because my last visitor was Josh.

"Josh! What're y-Wha… I- Umm….. Hi?"

Josh just chuckled. And smiled. As if my _hi_ didn't take an hour and a half to decide to make an appearance, only to come out all squeaky. "Hi, Cammie," he said. There was an awkward pause before he continued. "How… How are you?"

Which was probably one of the stupidest questions that could've been asked at that moment, but I still replied, "Well, considering what just happened a while ago…"

"Sorry… Just small talk… I guess." Another pause. "I'm sorry what happened." I nodded in reply. "I just…" he trails off. "I just came to say goodbye."

I force a smile. "Why? Don't think I can win?" I quip, trying to lighten the mood.

But Josh takes it seriously. "Then for now then. Some people forage in the woods, something I can't even do. But you can hunt, you can kill. You're a strong person, Cam. If… If you think you can win, you'll win. I… I guess that's why I fell in love with you."

I was half-sitting, half-standing at that point. My mouth was half-open, as if I was uncertain of whether or not to say "thank you," or "okay," or "I love you too," or stay dumbfounded, or maybe just doubt everything I thought I knew.

Because even after I received a death sentence, I was still wondering, if only just a little (okay, probably a lot more than a little), whether or not I even existed to Josh.

And on any other day, the heavens would've opened up just then, and the sun would've shone through the dark clouds. The carpet would've turned into rose petals, and my heart would've beat out of my chest (not that it wasn't about to right now).

But after years of simply watching the games, seeing the blood and the gore and the evils of this world, I knew that the Hunger Games were anything but sunshine and rose petals.

At that moment, I knew that after years of daydreaming about my happily ever after, it really could've happened. It _actually_ could've happened. I could've confessed my undying love for Josh and one day, we would've rode off into the sunset. To try our luck at one of the happily ever afters I've only ever seen in fairy tales.

But then my name was drawn. My fate was decided.

I've always thought, always _knew_, my Josh fantasies were always going to be just that. Just some far off fantasies. But knowing that maybe, just _maybe_, it _actually_ could've happened, then having it ripped away from me… It felt a lot different.

And win or lose, I was never going to get my happily ever after.

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**BTW, I made some minor changes to chapters 1 and 2. Some grammer, some spelling, and I also changed the number of entries Cammie had from 15 to 5... Don't kill me.**


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